Fantasy
by hadaka
Summary: Suzuna may or may not be a princess, but Sena is not her prince, nor her knight. kirskipkat's Fantasy prompt.


**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

**Warning:** This is **yaoi**. Also, **explicit**, **non-con**, and kind of **fucking** **messed up**. I want to rate it as **MA**, but it won't give me the option.

**Summary:** Suzuna may or may not be a princess, but Sena is not her prince, nor her knight.

An answer to the Fantasy prompt from kirskipkat, from the es21_yaoi lj.

**A/N:** I wrote this when I was in pain and hopped up on meds. May or may not have something to do with it. J, I know this is probably what you absolutely DIDNOT have in mind when you wrote this prompt, so...if you hate it, I'll take off the prompt notes.

If you have problems accepting that Kongo Agon is probably something of a sociopath, I suggest not reading this. Srsly, you will hate it. And me. **Non-con**, ladies and gents, **non-con**. Also, anyone who likes Taki Suzuna, _beware_.

* * *

Suzuna always kind of thought that she and Sena would get together.

It seems right, doesn't it? They're both small and cute. They're almost exactly the same height, which helps more than you would think. They're the same age. They get along, too, because Sena's a pushover and she's a push. Like two sides of a coin. Everything about them compliments something in the other person, from style to personality to hobbies. It's like he was _made_ for her, or maybe her for him, like someone wrote them both up on a piece of notebook paper, "two people who are supposed to belong together." There's practically a roof drawn over their heads, and all that separates them is a line.

Sena would have been the perfect boyfriend.

For her.

"Ah, _ah_...wait, wait, I—"

"Shut..._up_...fucking..._trash_..."

She kept waiting for it to happen. For him to realize what's waiting right in front of him. For him to look at her one day and really _see_ her. Boys mature more slowly than girls, right? Suzuna thought it would have been sudden and romantic, like a shower of cherry tree blossoms and a blush. He'd just look up one day and that'd be it, as if a switch had flipped in his brain. Maybe they would have held hands, or walked home together to begin with, and then before she knew it she would have been dating Kobayakawa Sena. Taki Suzuna, Eyeshield 21's girlfriend. Bentos and taking the train together to matches and her cheering on the sidelines while he scored the winning touchdown.

That's how it's supposed to be.

"Wait—no, _no_, stop—_stooop_—"

"Shut. _Up._"

That's how it _would_ have been. If it hadn't been for Musashi.

The worst part is that she didn't know. For the longest time, she didn't _know_. So she was waiting, like an idiot, all on her own for Sena to finally come around and see how _much_ they should be together, how perfectly they fit and how right the world would be if they just gave in to fate and the future and just _got on with it_, and Musashi was kissing him in the locker room.

They think she still doesn't know.

Of _course_ she knows. Suzuna is not Mamori. On an evolutionary scale, she's much closer to Yo-nii than she is to Mamo-nee, and _of course_ she knows. She's known for weeks now, and, since that day in the back of the Deimon amefuto clubhouse, she's been asking herself how she could possibly have been missing it for all that time.

She saw.

"_Haaa_, _haaa_...stop..._stop_...y-you..._ha_...not...Gen..._aaah_, Gen, _Gen, hel_—"

A slap.

She wonders if Yo-nii knows. Because once she finally realized what it means when Musashi looks at Sena like that, it was that much easier to notice the others. Yo-nii thinks he's being so subtle. Jealousy isn't a good look on him, you know? Even though most of the time it looks like bored contempt, Suzuna can tell. Suzuna's been watching Musashi and Sena, and it's like there's a whole other language they're using to show each other what they're feeling. But it's not hard, or difficult to learn, and once you see, you _see_.

Yo-nii doesn't want to see. He _refuses_ to see, because it's too painful for him to watch Sena with Musashi, to acknowledge what's going on. Maybe someone else would think it was strange, but Suzuna thinks it makes complete sense that the one thing Yo-nii can't handle is emotional trauma. He's all about control, Yo-nii, and you can't control those. It's up in the air whether it's having lost his grip on the situation or being unable to deal with losing to Musashi that's driving him insane. If it had been anyone else, Yo-nii would have _never_ quit, _never_ given up, would have harassed and chased and _dragged_ at Sena until Sena gave up and gave in.

But it was Takekura Gen, one of the only two friends he's ever had in his life, so instead Yo-nii just doesn't see. Because it's the only way he can cope.

Which technically sort of means that it's all Yo-nii's own fault that he didn't see Kongo Agon coming.

"Stopstopstop—please, please, don't do—don't—DON'T—"

A sound of ripping cloth, and a belt being undone.

No. That's not right.

Actually, it's all _Musashi's_ fault.

Musashi. Following Sena with his eyes. Helping Sena up on the field. Keeping an eye on him during road work. Stepping casually in when Yo-nii's teasing goes a little too far.

How was she supposed to _know_? How was she supposed to know that it's possible for a guy to be so—insidious? To seduce through hints and signs that normally don't mean anything at all? How was she supposed to know that what Musashi was doing wasn't just him being a good senpai? Suzuna had respected him. Appreciated him. Thought to herself, more than once, _Sena's lucky to have someone so nice looking out for him._

She saw. Musashi touching Sena. Musashi holding Sena. Musashi and Sena, on the floor behind the table in the office.

How can Sena let Musashi _do that_ to him?

It's _disgusting_.

"No, _nooo_, please..._please_...unnngh...please, _please_, don't do this to me—"

Sena's crying. She can hear him gasping and sobbing around his slurred words.

For a few seconds, there's nothing except for Sena crying.

When Suzuna caught Kongo Agon looking at Sena the same way Yo-nii did—all hungry and angry and _denied_—she immediately knew what to do.

She could see it in her head, what she would do, how it would all work out. And though the chances of Sena coming to his senses afterward and realizing who he really belongs with are very low, and the odds are rather high that he's going to be damaged too permanently for him to stay attractive to her, Suzuna decided to go with it. What does it matter? She already doesn't have him, and the prognosis of anything developing between them in the future is just too bad now. You can't cure a fag, right? Well, fine. She'll give him what he wants, then. Call it a parting gift.

Just as long as Musashi doesn't get to keep him.

"Nnngh..."

Agon's holding Sena.

Sena's on his side, curled in on himself, crying into the arms he's flung over his head like a child. His shirt's torn down the front and his pants are open at the waist, pulled nearly off his hips.

Agon's arms are around Sena. He's lying almost on top of Sena, and he's got his face in Sena's neck, his hair, just behind the ear and shoulder. He's—he's making soft, wet sounds, like he's kissing Sena, kissing the back of his neck. He's moving slowly, carefully, almost gently, and he's whispering something Suzuna can't hear.

A hand moves down Sena's side, to the hip. It pushes under the waist of his pants, and it's slow and careful and almost gentle, but it's implacable.

It pushes Sena's school uniform pants to his knees.

Suzuna remembers the expression on Kongo Agon's face when she went looking for him. First all arrogant, dismissive contempt, because neither her breasts or her ass are big enough to even vaguely interest him, and then, when she told him _I know you want Sena._, the cold, knife-like expression that made the hair on the back of her neck stand because she'd never seen _murder_ in someone's eyes before.

_Musashi's already got Sena,_ she told him.

A different look—one of brief, flashing surprise. And then—just like she calculated—the hot, _consuming_ anger, the jealousy. Then it was almost too easy.

Yo-nii and Agon are more alike than either of them want to know. But Yo-nii would never be manipulated so easily.

Unless he wanted to be.

_What do _you_ want out of it, cunt?_ Agon asked her eventually.

Suzuna had thought about lying. And about telling the truth.

Then she'd told a bit of both.

_I just hate Musashi,_ she'd said.

_Crazy bitch, aren't you?_ he'd answered.

Suzuna couldn't tell if he'd bought it or not, but it wasn't important. Her motivations didn't matter at all to him, just as long as she delivered.

And she had.

She still doesn't know what that small pill he told her to crush and put in Sena's drink was.

"_Ah_—no, that—no, STOP—that HURTS—no, no, nononononostopstopSTOP—"

Suzuna can't see what Agon's doing with his hand. But Sena screams, and for a second her heart almost seizes. Then Agon gets a hand over Sena's mouth and now all Sena can try to do is struggle.

He can't, not very much. He's so out of it he can barely talk straight, much less fight back. He's still screaming into Agon's hand, but it's weak. Agon pushes Sena onto his stomach and Sena makes an attempt at crawling away, but then he's got Agon's weight on him and it's impossible.

Suzuna really can't see the appeal of this. How can it feel _at all_ good? And it's not like there's much of a difference between what Agon's doing and what Musashi did. From the back is from the back, isn't it?

How can Sena _like_ this? How could this _possibly_ have made him moan and sigh and gasp _More, Gen, more—_

Agon's lifting Sena's hips.

Suzuna thinks back to what he told her an hour ago, just before she poured the folded paper of pale, grounded powder into Sena's Gatorade. _This is it, bitch. After this, you don't fuck with Sena again. You don't come anywhere near him. Or I break your fucking jaw. Haaa?_

He wants to keep him, she realized at that point. He thinks he's going to get to keep Sena. He doesn't just want to take Sena from Musashi—he wants to _keep_ him.

Suzuna's _still_ shocked at how _crazy_ that is.

Agon—his hips—he grunts, clenches his teeth, makes a slow, hard forward motion with his—

Sena _screams_. A genderless, awful scream, high and broken and filled with raw pain and fear.

But it's into Agon's hand, so all that's audible is a muted wail.

He keeps screaming, and the wail sort of hangs in the air. Agon's thrusting faster, harder, and he's got his face in Sena's hair, his teeth in Sena's neck and shoulder. Sena can't struggle anymore—either giving up or too doped to be able to or both—and his hands are in front of him, sort of reaching for—for nothing, for the air, for the wall, his fingers stiffening and his hands flexing helplessly like at least _they_ want to struggle.

Agon's foot jostles the table they're behind.

Then his back stiffens, he thrusts _hard_, one last time, so hard Sena slides forward a few inches, and the muscles in his neck and shoulders bunch and strain as he holds himself over Sena, shaking slightly, dreadlocks falling into Sena's hair from his hanging head.

_Oh,_ thinks Suzuna. _So that's what it looks like._

When he's finished, Agon takes his hand off of Sena's mouth.

Sena's not screaming anymore. He just lies there, staring into nothing, mouth partially open. Even when Agon pulls out of him, there isn't a flinch or a whisper or so much as a movement of the eyes.

From what Suzuna can see, Sena's still breathing and his eyes are glassy. So it must be the drug. It _would_ only kick in all the way _after_ the worst part.

Agon lies on his back. He's still hanging out of his open pants, all wet and slick, and Suzuna gets an eyeful. A really big eyeful. No wonder Sena was screaming.

"Fucking trash," breathes Agon. He sounds—so relaxed. Satisfied. "That's mine, now. You don't give it to anyone but me. Understand?"

No answer.

Agon pushes himself onto one elbow and leans over Sena. His head is in the way so Suzuna can't quite see either of their faces, but she does hear him say, "_Understand_, Sena?"

If Sena replies, she can't hear it. But Agon pulls away again and stands up.

Suzuna watches as Agon fixes his pants. As he looks around the Deimon clubhouse, sneering at various things that he sees. She watches as Agon picks Sena up—so easily—and sits him on top of the table. It takes Agon's arm and hand to keep Sena upright. She watches as Agon, with a patience and gentleness that seems _insane_ to see in him after what he's just done, dress Sena again, pulling his pants up and zippering and adjusting the belt. She watches as Agon picks up the bottle of Gatorade Sena dropped earlier, Sena's bag, and the gloves he used when he was disabling all of Yo-nii's cameras and alarms.

She watches as Agon stands Sena up, catching him when Sena starts to fall. She watches him walk Sena to the door, painstakingly careful and slow, and then open the door in front of them.

Suzuna watches Agon lead Sena, who is staggering, out of the clubhouse, one hand holding Sena's shoulder.

The door closes behind them, and all that's left is the faint light coming through the windows.

Suzuna hits Stop on the remote and the DVD player's screen goes blank.

He was really thorough, a lot more thorough than she expected. Four of her five cameras are broken, now, past repair. But that's all right. All she needed was one.

Suzuna presses Eject, takes the DVD that the player slides back out. She puts it in a plastic container, fitting it precisely in.

On the lid of the container, she writes, with a thick, black pen, in large, block writing that is nothing like her own, _Look at me, Takekura-san_.

She'll drop this off tomorrow morning, before practice.

Suzuna can't wait to see the look on Musashi's face.


End file.
